


At The End Of Vanity

by Faye_Reynolds



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: I stg, M/M, PINING!!, and when you twirl your partner around, coach!francis, i wish i was them instead!au., ice dancer!james, these two!!!, you're an ice dancer and i'm your coach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25478494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faye_Reynolds/pseuds/Faye_Reynolds
Summary: Had he known Francis Crozier would be such an aggressive, astringent, and all together aggravating thorn in his side, James might have reconsidered.So, it would have only been natural that James had developed feelings for the man.It was all terribly cliché, but true nonetheless.
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier & Commander James Fitzjames, Captain Francis Crozier/Commander James Fitzjames
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	At The End Of Vanity

**Author's Note:**

> soft and self-indulgent.  
> [playlist to go along with this fic/fitzier in general](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0q6wzre44L3V9W3xoa0rgv?si=S3D1vmsFSK6uE7Y4ArjC0Q)  
> these two will be the end of me.  
> no beta. no proofread.  
> we die with mistakes, like warriors.  
> sidenote: i'm am in love with this fic. it's one of my favorite things i've ever written.  
> -faye.

James going to die.

“Wrong. Go again.”

James grunted as he lifted himself off the ice again for the tenth time in as many minutes.

He skates toward Francis, ignoring the look of contempt in favor of emptying half of his water bottle in five seconds.

“You’re three seconds off on the lift and if you cannot keep from falling in the twizzle sequence before the end, then what are we even doing here?”

James gasped as the last of the water was swallowed in haste.

“You can’t possibly be so shortsighted to see I’m the only one out there.” James rebuked.

Francis’ nostrils flared in annoyance, but James was just the other side of exhausted to fear the wrath of his anger.

“While you might think it okay, Fitzjames, I do not and have never tolerated your ability to place the fault of your failures on others, like Sophia. Now, run the program again before I become ornery.”

James rolled his eyes as he skated back towards his very bored looking partner.

“As though he could get any crankier,” She offered in way of breaking the tension for James.

He laughs as he takes the first position close behind her, hands on her hips. He squeezed them in thanks and leaned down to her ear, a smile still in place, while he stared at the formidable face of Francis Crozier.

“You know I’ve never been afraid of a challenge, Soph.”

She giggled in the unintentionally silly way she always did but jumped when their coach barked out another order.

“GO!”

They pushed off together, running the routine they had been practicing for five odd hours a day for the past twelve weeks.

Their last run before they retired for good. Sophia wanted love, children, a life beyond this. James wanted…well he knew what he wanted and contended to put it as far out of his mind as possible. Still, James believed their final go afforded them some leeway, but Francis had them running basic drills off the ice any time they weren’t on the ice as though they were rooks. He had been particularly harsh on James as of late and while it wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary, it had been striking James a little deeper with each comment.

He, Sophia, and Francis had been working together, as athlete and coach respectively, for the better part of the past three years, after the death of their last coach. John Franklin. Better known as Sir John in the circuits because he crafted athletes into the royalty of their professions, gold medal winners. James and Sophia among them.

Francis Crozier had been Sophia’s idea. He’d been a family friend of the Franklin’s for years and was just as successful a coach as Sir John had been. James had been so lost in his grief of the only father he’d ever known that he had been ready to retire then and there. It was Sophia who reminded him that Sir John’s work should not be left in vain. They should go for gold once more and _then_ retire to peaceful lives full of plenty of sleeping in beyond five in the morning. She had made James smile then, his first in the weeks following their coach’s death. He couldn’t have denied her had he tried.

Had he known Francis Crozier would be such an aggressive, astringent, and all together aggravating thorn in his side, James might have reconsidered.

So, it would have only been natural that James had developed feelings for the man.

It was all terribly cliché, but true nonetheless.

Still, despite James' affection toward their coach, he remained steadfast in his burial of it. In all the time they’ve worked together, Francis still treated him as though he hasn’t been a veteran competitor for the better part of his life. All the while Sophia was treated as though she hung the moon. Were James to fall on the other line of the spectrum, Sophia would be easy to fall for, so he can’t blame her or Francis for their feelings toward one another. James doesn’t hold it against her and reminds himself that it isn’t her fault. After all, Sophia _was_ the stronger competitor of the two of them, but he still couldn’t help the jealousy that made his blood boil when she would receive praise for something which Francis would later admonish him. Not because of the admonition, or favoritism, but rather the praise Sophia received. To be on the positive end of Francis’ attention was something James craved more than all the gold medals in the world.

They’re nearing the end of their routine, the tricky part. It had been Sophia’s idea, her way of both honoring Sir John and guarantee of a gold medal.

A triple twist lift. 

While it had been done before, it was no easy feat, and Francis insisted it be at the end of their program. No one would count on such a feat at the last second of their performance.

The only problem that stood in their way was that the footwork was faster than James had ever done and despite the weeks of practice, he still was caught under his own feet toward the tempo pick up near the end and he couldn’t get it to sync. Sophia was lighter on her feet and had been able to lock it down quickly, but between the endless onslaught and presence of _Francis_ and the pressure as they got nearer to performance, it was setting James further away from success.

Still, he pushed himself more than ever before to get it right. For John. For Sophia. For Francis. For himself.

He was opposite Sophia on the rink, a small break before they gathered momentum toward the twist lift when he looked toward Francis and saw a bright smile on his face directed at James, _and only James._ Then he met Francis’ eyes and saw pride before sudden shock.

His heart stuttered followed by his feet and he crashed to the ice before he could have even braced himself.

James remained there on the ice, lungs aching from panted breaths. He kept his eyes closed and braced himself for the endless rant from his coach.

Instead, he was met with gentle hands placing a warm cloth under his head for support.

Then, “Christ, James, another fall like that and I’ll have to take your place.”

James smiled despite the pain radiating from his aching body and the familiar jealousy at the thought of Sophia having the pleasure to skate with Francis in such a way.

“Would be more than an honor to watch you move, Crozier.” He declared with unintended softness and admiration reserved for James’ thoughts only.

He opened his eyes then to find Francis not more than four inches from his own face. The proximity married with James’ exhaustion had his cheeks reddened more than from the ice alone.

Francis must have noticed something because his expression shifted into something reminiscent of mischief. James must have been slightly concussed because there is no way that it was directed toward him.

“Let’s not make poor Miss Cracroft suffer the like of my twizzles, hmm?”

James laughed, the image alone driving away the last of his shakiness at Francis’ undivided attention.

Francis offered James a hand to help lift him back up.

James connected his consistently cold hands to Francis’ absurdly warm ones. The heat alone had been enough for James to shiver.

Their hands remained entwined for a moment longer before James reluctantly pulled back, swirling emotions that threatened to burst forth, buried once again.

“Very well, shall we go again?” James questioned, the crack in his voice thoroughly ignored.

Francis considered James for a long time; the exhausted state of the dancer observed with fervor.

James shifted on his skates under the scrutiny but did not break eye contact. As intimidated by Francis as he could be, the thrill of the gaze was something James could not, or would not, deny himself. Still, his cheeks flushed with the knowledge of the attention and sudden gentility from the man before him.

Francis broke the spell with a sharp clearing of his throat.

“No, Fitzjames. We’re done for the day. Rest well and we will begin tomorrow anew.”

James smiled at the retreating man as he left the building, still confused by the tenderness, but grateful for it just the same.

“Oh _James,_ I wish you would have told me.”

James jumped, not lightly either. He had completely forgotten Sophia was there. Come to think of it, so had Francis.

“Told you what, dear?” He questioned; nervous she had seen through James like she always had.

“That you’re absolutely head over heels for Francis.”

James blushed instantly and cursed the betrayal of his own body.

“Don’t deny it Fitzjames! I can’t believe you’ve hidden it this long! You’re the most horrible liar.”

James laughed despite himself, he had been caught and was certain Sophia would ridicule him for it.

“Please, Soph. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

He looked up and saw a look of slight outrage on his partner’s face.

“Do you think so little of me, James? After all these years?”

He shook his head with vehement resolve.

“Of course not, Soph. I’m just scared and, quite honestly, surprised.”

“Of your feelings for him? I wouldn’t be so surprised, he’s just your type.”

James narrowed his eyes in question, confused.

“At your lack of anger.”

Sophia laughed, “What for? Why would _I_ be angry?”

“Because you fancy Francis? And he fancies you?”

Sophia had a moment of pure shock before she really burst into laughter.

James shifted in anxiety and once Sophia saw she simmered down.

“Oh _James_ , I apologize. I’m not laughing at you.”

He let out the breath in relief.

“Just your complete lack of observation skills.”

He groaned and rolled his eyes in a petulant display of discomfort.

“Honestly, _James_. I’ve known Francis longer than I’ve known you and that man, _our coach_ , is as smitten with you as you are with him. Has been for years!”

James scoffed and skated slowly to the end of the rink by his gear with Sophia hot on his heels.

“You’ve fallen one too many times today, Soph. Our _coach_ tolerates me at best and loathes me at worst. Trust me, Francis isn’t in love with me.”

Sophia had still been smiling and now was practically giddy with excitement.

She sat next to James quickly, “So, you admit it?!”

James looked up from unlacing his skates and looked at her in confusion.

“Admit what?”

“That you’re in love with Francis!” She exclaimed.

James hastened to place his hand over her mouth as though she were a child about to spill a secret.

“Keep your sodded voice down! He could still be here.”

She still had a smile on her face before she narrowed her eyes and licked James’ palm.

He pulled back quickly in disgust, “Ugh! You’re such a child sometimes, Sophia. Honestly.”

She giggled again and James found himself laughing with her despite his forlorn mood.

“You didn’t answer the question!” She lilted in a singsong type way. 

“Childish.”

“Answer me right now James Fitzjames before I start playing dirty.”

James swallowed heavily both at the threat, because Sophia could be ruthless when she wanted to be, and at the admission he’d only ever made to himself.

“The answer is yes,” he released a heavy sigh, “I am in love with him.”

Sophia clapped in delight, “I knew it. You two always think no one notices, but you’re too busy staring at each other to remember someone else is in the room.”

James choked, “We don’t stare at each other!”

She laughed, “Are you serious, James? You two stare at one another so often I’m surprised you find time for other things.”

James placed his elbows on the bench behind him and relaxed back, determined to remember a recent memory of this.

He didn’t have to go back very far because not an hour earlier, he had been staring at James and James staring back, both surprised when they caught the other’s eye.

_Still..._

He jumped back up and set about putting his skates in his bag.

“It doesn’t mean anything, Soph. A coach should be watching their competitor.”

Sophia sighed heavily and waited for James to regard her again.

When he did, he saw nothing but pity and genuine concern.

“James, after Sir John died, I confided my biggest secret to you.”

He nodded, giving her his full attention then.

“You had wanted to retire after our first win.”

She nodded in confirmation.

“I suppose it wasn’t entirely a secret with the way I fought John on coming back, but I’m glad I did. Our last run meant everything to me, truly.”

He smiled and grabbed her hand, “Me too, Soph. Don’t think I won’t hesitate to remind your future spouse and children of what a wild, free spirit you were. There’s still a dent in my car from Aspen.”

They both laughed fondly, and Sophia wrapped her hand in James’.

“I wish the same for you, James.”

James’ smiled dropped. He too had confided in Sofia then and told her that he wanted to settle down and retire soon too. They were getting older and the competition only getting younger. It was time and they both wanted the experiences they had pushed to the side for so long.

“And you think I’ll find that with Francis?” He whispered, buried emotions surfacing like treasure set free from the bottom of the ocean. He had always held his cards close to his chest, never daring to dream of anything with Francis because he was certain the man only had eyes for Sophia.

But now?

“I do. If you’ve ever trusted me, trust me now. I believe you can and will make each other happy.”

James smiled as his imagination ran wild. Each memory of a passing glance, heated look, and furtive touch set his body alight. There was nothing he could not trust with Sophia and there was no better judge of character that he knew. If she believed Francis reciprocated his feelings, then James would as well.

He laughed, butterflies causing a hurricane in his stomach.

“Well, this is all very grown-up.”

“We all have to do it one day,” She sighed with wistful intent as she threw her still skate-clad foot into James’ lap.

He groaned as he began unlacing the boot.

“Suppose some of us have longer than others.”

He laughed as she swatted her hands at him.

Then an idea struck him, and he relayed it to Sophia to see if it was half as decent as he thought.

By the mischief in her eyes growing brighter as he went on, he figured it was worth a shot.

* * *

James woke two hours before their set practice time the following morning. They only had two more weeks to practice and he was determined not to disappoint. Sophia had also suggested he try his plan as soon as possible and the thought had James tossing and turning all night. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced Sophia was right, but then he would second guess himself and it would start all over again. By four in the morning, he could think no longer. So he dragged himself from the warmth of his bed and to the brisk chill of the rink and began running their program solo to get his timing perfect.

He ran it twice without fail, hitting every mark with precision. He couldn’t wait until Sophia got there so they could finally run the program without a hitch.

He couldn’t wait until Francis arrived either, both to try his plan and show him his improvement.

He goes again, trying a little faster because he had time to kill, completely unaware of a certain blonde enraptured with him from the rink entrance.

* * *

When Francis had met James Fitzjames the first time, he couldn’t stand him. James had a habit of questioning everything Francis said, while simultaneously following every word from Sir John, even if they happened to be the same thing. He also never let it slip Francis’ mind that he had not one, but two gold medals. Francis supposed that warranted certain bragging rights, but it wasn’t as though James was a forgettable man.

Quite the opposite. Coupled with the sheer frustration of James, was Francis’ complete and utter admiration. James had come from nothing and built himself up to become a multiple Olympic gold medalist. No small feat and he’d done so with pure willpower and determination. And while those were admirable qualities, it was the charm of James’ smile, the light of his eyes when telling a joke horribly, and the flush of his cheeks at any sign of praise that had Francis falling faster than someone on skating on the ice for the first time.

However, it wasn’t until he saw James skate, in person, for the first time that he knew he was well and truly enamored. He couldn’t take his eyes off the graceful and precise movements of James if had even tried to. There was a reason James did in fact have two gold medals and it was shown with total clarity in the way he handled himself on the ice. With James’ skill, it was as though his skates never really touched the ice. It was nothing short of magic to Francis. And when James’ finished his set and asked Francis if it was good enough, Francis did the only logical thing he could do.

He responded with harsh sarcasm.

“Don’t suppose it could’ve been any worse, Fitzjames.”

The instant frown was almost enough to make Francis backtrack, start again.

But then James had turned and signaled the music to start again so he could show Francis he could do better.

It was heady and Francis was so enthralled that he didn’t even have time to stop himself from falling further.

From that first encounter, he was done for.

Cut to three years later and nothing has changed, save for the depth of devotion and veneration that Francis held for James.

But with the way James and Sophia regard one another, it’s clear there is no chance or room for Francis in James' romantic life. He supposes it’s only a natural progression from ice dancing partners to real-life partners and though he had never witnessed their affection firsthand, there is an intimacy between them with which Francis knows he can’t compete.

Still, he can admire beauty where he finds it. And he has yet to find anything or anyone quite as beautiful as James, especially when he’s on the ice.

“You know, in certain cultures, what you’re doing could be considered rude.”

Francis is wrenched from his reverie by James’ voice which was terrifyingly close. He blinked and the brunette was standing before him, cheeks red and panting from exertion. Francis had to use all his willpower not to imagine James in a similar state, but due to a far different exercise.

“And what is it exactly that I’m doing Fitzjames?”

Francis prided himself on the steady cadence in which he asked the question.

“ _Staring,”_ James replied with an exaggerated wink and laugh.

It was enough to make Francis’ heart stop. He had been caught and was certain James would not fail to ridicule him for it.

“You should grab some skates and join me, _Coach_. We still have some time before Soph arrives. I need a partner to run her part.”

Francis paled then flushed at the thought of James dancing with him the way he does with Sophia.

“Would you not rather practice on your own again? Is it boring you?” He asked with a slight tremor in his voice. He didn’t do so well in hiding his nerves this time.

James smiled and skated backward slowly, grace and form still present despite the laid-back demeanor.

“Absolutely not.”

Francis let out a breath of relief.

“But it would be so much more fun with you on the ice. Unless, of course, you don’t think you can.”

James, a smile still in place, winks again.

Francis bites his cheek at both the gesture and cockiness in James as well as the implication that he couldn’t perform the program _he_ had choreographed.

James turned to skate away, but Francis stops him with his voice.

“Sync the music, Fitzjames.”

James just laughs with warmth and delight as he resets their music, while Francis laces his skates.

He then took a deep breath and set the remote inside the pocket of his cream jumper.

“I can do this, I can do this,” He repeated to himself over and over again in the hope his confidence would follow suit.

Francis watched James skate in loops for a moment, the man was mouthing something to himself that he couldn’t quite make out.

Then he braced himself for the disaster the next three minutes were sure to be and glided onto the ice.

“Center ice, Fitzjames. Let’s go.”

He saw James jump but ignored it in favor of settling his own nerves which happened to go haywire the moment James skidded to a stop right behind him.

He felt rather than heard the short breaths of his impromptu partner behind him and was glad James could no longer see the red coating his cheeks.

“Are you ready, _Francis_?” James whispered in his ear, the same way he did Sophia not just twenty-four hours ago.

Francis’ breaths came faster then, with the feeling of James’ lips so close to him and the way in which the taller man spoke his name.

He used every inch of willpower to remain calm.

“Some time today, Fitzjames.” He chided, grateful for his steady voice.

James pressed the button on the remote to begin the music and then gave himself the final push off the edge of uncertainty and placed his hands firmly on Francis’ hips just like he would for Sophia.

He smiled at the sound of hitched breath from his new partner and then they were off, running the routine as though they had done it a thousand times.

It was exhilarating skating with Francis. Not simply because he was a remarkable athlete in his own right, but because he anticipated exactly what James needed before he even knew. If he needed more space or to quicken or slow the pace of their movement, Francis knew and adjusted in an instant.

If James hadn’t been in love before this, he was certain of it now.

They don’t do the twist lift for several reasons, but Francis does meet him for the final movements, including the final step.

James smiles as his plan had worked thus far.

The program ends with a close embrace between the two dancers and James pulled Francis as close possible.

The music faded and Francis was left held tight and close in James’ arms with nothing but their panting breaths as company.

Francis looked up to find James smiling brightly, cheeks still red, hair sticking to the side of his sweating face.

It was the most beautiful sight Francis had ever seen.

Which is why he wasn’t able to stop himself from bridging the gap between them.

He pulled James the few extra inches and pressed his lips gently, but with a clear intent to James’.

Francis would have been able to remember it if the fear of rejection and loss of friendships hadn't been so great.

He doesn’t have the anxiety long because James lifts Francis’ chin higher for a better advantage at leaving the blonde absolutely breathless.

Of course, it's ended far too early. James had to stop because his smile was threatening to break his jaw.

Francis had never before seen James so… _happy_.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” James exclaimed, practically giddy. He sees now why Sophia and James were so close. Their ardent natures were mutual.

“Nor I, _James._ ”

James laughed, carefree as possible, and grabbed Francis’ hands with all the freedom in the world.

“You’re a breathtaking skater, Francis. You should be on the ice, not me.”

Francis balked at the same time he blushed, and James’ smile turns wicked.

“You can’t possibly be so shortsighted to see I was the only one out there, James.” Francis rebuts, James’ smart comment from yesterday mirrored. He slid on his skates to get closer to James who laughed warmly.

“That was almost a positive compliment, _Coach_. I’m touched.”

Francis stopped just short of his chest reaching James' when he remembered Sophia would in at any moment.

He had been so blind by the prospect of James returning his feelings, he forgot about Sophia.

James sensed the change in demeanor and held steadfast to Francis’ hands.

“What’s wrong? I meant no ill intent, Francis.”

“What of Sophia?” Francis spoke quickly, terrified of the repercussions and eventual rejection by James.

“What of her? She’s more than likely still asleep.” James shrugged, no concern evident.

Francis looked confused and James’ had a sudden moment of clarity as to why the other man’s mood had shifted so quickly.

“Did you-me? With Sophia?” He knows he made an improper sound along with a disgusted face, but the thought of anything romantic with Sophia was enough to make him shudder in horror.

Then something else clicked and he knew Sophia would gloat until the end of time because she was right.

Among the nerves and fears that were clearly shown, _Francis was jealous_.

He had thought exactly what James thought not yesterday. He knew it was a little bit cruel, but Francis had given him so much hell because he thought James fancied Sophia.

He had to tease him just a little. Even the ice, so to speak.

“You were jealous! I knew there was a reason for your attitude towards me.” James smiled when Francis’ expression shifted from anxious to angry in the blink of an eye.

“There were many reasons for my _attitude_ towards you, Fitzjames, least of all my jealousy.”

“Ah-ha!” James exclaimed, so excited he nearly slipped on the ice. Francis reached out instantly to steady him and James noted how he didn’t let go of his arms once he was righted.

“So, you admit you _were_ jealous.” James clarified as though he had just solved some great puzzled.

“I do.” Francis nodded, though James could still see uncertainty in his expression.

“ _Francis_ , Sophia and I have never been and are nothing more than dear friends and dance partners.”

“You speak with such certainty for the both of you,” Francis sighed, “How can you be sure?”

James smiled and pulled Francis closer to him, “Easy. She’s the one who insisted I tell you how I feel.”

Francis’ hope had bloomed at James saying they were just friends and it swelled with what was, essentially, Sophia’s blessing.

He pulls James as close as they had been before, “And just what are those feelings?”

James decided then to put his words into action and pulled Francis in for a kiss hot enough to melt the rink below them. By the moan of approval and hands slid beneath his shirts, James felt he succeeded.

They pull apart with reluctance, connected by fevered temples and identical smiles.

James quipped with droll disbelief, “I can’t believe you were jealous.”

Francis groaned in exasperation.

“Yes James, if you _must_ compartmentalize the entirety of my feelings toward you down to a passing flight of jealousy, then so be it. It doesn’t change the truth.”

“And what would the truth be?” James asked with firm confidence. His need to hear the words, plain and simple, outweighed the fear of the unknown.

Francis bit his cheek once more but decided that James deserved to know now before either of them thought this was something it wasn’t.

“I suppose it isn’t feelings, but more so _one_ feeling.”

James unwittingly leaned closer with anticipation.

“I love you.”

There. Francis' greatest secret. Laid bare and simple to the one person he never thought he would tell. 

James’ blush descended to his neck and disappeared in the cream turtleneck he was wearing.

He laughs warmly as though Francis was not moments away from panic.

Then Francis is met with James’ lips again and his panic dissipates in exchange for a feeling of wholeness.

“I love you too, Francis, _truly_.”

James began to skate them toward the exit, Francis compensating the movement with ease.

“To be quite honest, I thought this whole time you fancied Sophia.”

Francis’ head clouded with confusion, unable to grasp how James could reach that conclusion and at the declaration that he loved Francis.

“Why on Earth for?”

“To start? The difference in approach toward us.”

Francis winced and nodded his head.

“There’s no way I could conceal that one, but had I complimented you outright as much as I wanted to, you would have caught on to how much I admired you.”

“Hmm…” James hummed as he pressed a surprised Francis against the wall of the rink.

He ran the tip of his nose followed by his lips against the bulk of Francis' neck, delighting in the heady aroma of bergamot and sea salt and _heat_.

Francis swallowed heavily against James’ lips pressed firmly on his Adam’s apple.

He met James’ eyes with even measure and had to bite down on his tongue to prevent the moan that threatened to escape when he met the heated gaze.

“Perhaps we should remedy your attitude, Francis.”

Francis wound his hands over James’ broad shoulders and through the damp, soft hair. He pulled with gentle, but firm force to get James’ attention.

“How do you suppose we do that, James? Should I praise you until you can no longer handle it?”

The full-body shiver that followed was all the answer Francis needed.

James, ever the wildfire and thorn in Francis’ side, couldn’t let him have his victory though when he responded.

“You are aware of _just_ _how_ flexible I am, right?”

Francis groaned even as he pulled a laughing James back into his arms. He kissed the brunette again, as freely as he liked because there was no way he was letting James go now.

Still, he did have an image to maintain.

“You are as insufferable as you are vain, Fitzjames.”

James wrapped his arms around Francis’ waist and held him with just as much tenderness as Francis held him.

“Ah, but we’re at the end vanity, Francis.”

“Which leaves?” Francis asked, eyes glued to James’ own.

“Everything else.”


End file.
